


on the outside looking in

by queenmcgonagall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, outside perspective fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 12:52:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenmcgonagall/pseuds/queenmcgonagall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A secret for 5 boys with everything to gain and everything to lose. We’re on top of the world, hiding a secret that should have been simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	on the outside looking in

They call me a Larry shipper, but they don’t really know what that means.

I’m not a shipper. I’m just their brother, who supports them.

You could see it, you know. The progression. We sat on those stairs that hold so many memories and the three of us watched as Louis’s gaze lingered on Harry’s. We watched Louis’s fingers behind his back, instinctively reaching for Harry’s wrist and curling around it, fingers intimately brushing at his pulse. We watched Harry look at Louis with those eyes like saucers, lit up with mirth and affection and maybe a little bit of childlike wonder and awe. We smiled hesitantly at each other, unsure if we should say something or just let them be, let them figure it out on their own. One day, they kissed in front of us and I remember it being completely normal, despite never having seen it before. I looked up, saw Harry’s lips softly brushing against the corner of Louis’s mouth and I smiled at them. That’s all. We always knew, it was always inevitable.

Louis’s fingers say I love you and Harry’s eyes say I know.

But still, despite that happiness…I worry about them.

I worry at how obvious they are, the way they can’t hide the constant need to be touching, the way they turn to each other in an interview and it’s as if time stops, frozen, and we’re all on the outside looking in, and the two of them just look at each other like there’s so much to take in and they never want to stop. I want to shield that. I want to put my hand in front of the interviewer’s eyes while the moment passes, I want to turn my head away and give them the privacy they’re always yearning for.

It hurts me to see Harry’s head hanging in shame as they berate him for the last thing he did on stage, whether it’s look at Louis for too long or make too suggestive of a lyric change. I worry about them, but at the same time I want them to be able to shout it.

I want them to not have to hide the way they feel when they look at each other. When I look at them, it’s so obvious to me. How can someone not see the way Harry’s eyes follow Louis constantly? The way he visibly brightens and gets taller and bigger and happier whenever Louis is in the room. And how can they not notice the way Louis gets quieter and softer and sweeter around Harry, as if Harry is this breakable object that we need to wrap up and protect.

They say there’s never a time or place for love. It doesn’t happen the way it’s supposed to. You don’t choose who you fall in love with. They say one day, you just wake up and you know. I don’t know what it is they know, but I think Harry and Louis have found it. I think they found it that first moment Louis jumped into Harry’s arms. They also say you can see love in the air. That I do understand. When we burst off stage after an adrenaline-pumped performance and Harry throws caution to the wind and pulls Louis in for a heated kiss, prompting catcalls from all of us, I see it in the air. I feel it all around me; like I’m sharing in the passion between these two boys I call family. The love between them feels like a blanket around us, softly enveloping us in the happiness they share and it’s like a secret. A secret for 5 boys with everything to gain and everything to lose. We’re on top of the world, hiding a secret that should have been simple.

I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. I’m not sure of anything. All I’m sure of is that I want to watch Harry and Louis love each other with everything they have.

So maybe ‘shipping’ them is smirking at Louis as he subtly tries to insert himself between me and Harry on stage. Maybe it’s joking around in interviews and laughing off their relationship so as to protect them. Maybe it’s enjoying the way Harry always orders Louis’s dessert for him whenever we go out to dinner.

Quite possibly, it could be hiding my smile at the way Louis slouches into the kitchen in the mornings, hair sticking up all over the place, eyelids half open, but he still manages to find Harry and slip hands under his t-shirt and kiss the back of his neck as he stands at the stove. 

Or maybe it’s appreciating the way Harry leans into Louis as we stand in a line outside the tour bus, waving to screaming fans. It’s noticing the small things, like how Louis’s thumb rubs circles into Harry’s hips as we all watch a movie in their apartment. I see them curled up together on the tour bus, Louis with his legs slung over Harry’s, his head lying heavily in the hollow of Harry’s collarbone. Harry puts his arm around him and absentmindedly plays with the skin on Louis’s elbow as his other hand scrolls through Twitter on his phone.

I smile softly at them and pull out my phone and snap a picture. Later, I find it on Louis’s phone. It’s the background. He must’ve sent it to himself. 

Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it, all this secrecy and cover-up and lying. Is it worth the tension and anxiety?

Is it worth it when I hear the screaming through the paper-thin walls of hotel rooms in nameless cities? I listen as what is unmistakably Harry’s voice shouts I hate this, I hate you, why are you doing this to us. I listen to the soft murmurs of Louis’s voice, calming down the screams until it turns into soft moaning and beds creaking. 

I wonder if it’s worth it when I see Harry’s lifeless eyes staring at me from under his unruly mop of hair on those days when it’s just us four boys and Louis and Eleanor are off parading around like show animals. I see his heart visibly break, shatter into a million pieces, every time Louis makes a half-hearted attempt to deny their relationship.

But then I see how good they are together. I see them in the recording studio, Harry’s large hands smoothing down Louis’s stiff shoulders as he struggles to hit his notes. I see the way Harry lifts a water-bottle to Louis’s lips, pulls his feet into his lap and rubs them. His mouth moves, most likely murmuring encouragements into the air. 

Louis’s eyes seem sunken into his face, a wash of pale gray that contrasts alarmingly with the bright red of his beanie. Harry’s curls hang over his chest as he leans in closer and kisses Louis’s eyelids as they flutter closed. From where I sit on the couch, I can see his fingertips pressing into the back of Louis’s neck, thumbs softly pressing into the pulse point at his throat, stroking, relaxing.

In the van on the way to the airport that night, the light flickers over us. One moment Harry’s lips are in Louis’s hair. The next time the light glances over them, Louis’s hand rests on Harry’s chest, right above where his heart must be, and his nose is pressed into Harry’s neck. 

We board the plane for Sweden, stash our bags in the overhead compartments and flop onto comfortable seats for the flight. Harry guides Louis to a seat, snagging a pillow and blanket from the stewardess on the way by. Louis’s hand clutches Harry’s arm and I’m struck by how small it looks resting on the solid muscle of Harry’s arm. I wonder how often it’s Harry taking care of Louis. From the familiar way Harry gently pushes Louis into the seat, I think it must be often. He drapes the blanket over both of them, pulling Louis into the crook of his neck and whispering into his ear.

I sit in my own seat and push my hands under my head, eyes on them. The longer Harry whispers, the more Louis’s eyes droop shut and he curls up into Harry’s side.

Love you guys I say. Harry presses one last kiss to Louis’s earlobe and turns to look at me.

We love you too. That we curls into my heart and settles there, filling me with warmth and contentment. He smiles at me, brotherly, affectionate.

I see the way he then smiles down at Louis, completely different in all its love. 

And I’m reminded that it might be hard, it might be stressful, it might put pressure on their relationship. But in the end, Harry and Louis are in love and it’s simple and perfect, like love is meant to be.

I close my eyes.

The last thing I see is Louis’s lips forming the words I love you into Harry’s heart.


End file.
